


Walk Through the Fire

by Rockyroll



Category: Little Fires Everywhere (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, F/M, Love, Marriage, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Sex, i know it's weird but I still love these two, it gets kinky, its not because of my giant celebrity crushes on both Reese and Josh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockyroll/pseuds/Rockyroll
Summary: Bill and Elena have so much to work on in their marriage, their parenting and their own mental well being. This is some of that journey, with some racy bits and a little bit of Bill-channeling-Pacy because I still can't help but see him in most of Joshua Jackson's projects.I hope my ADHD lets me finish this story, but ya'll know how it goes.  We shall see.Also, how are there no other Elena/Bill works out? Am I the only one, for real? I hope not!
Relationships: Bill Richardson/Elena Richardson
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Bill studied his knuckles as he sat across from Elena at the coffee shop. It was too hard to look at her. Even the day he thought he'd lost her, fifteen years ago. At least then she'd looked alive. Exhausted, overwhelmed, disheveled, but alive. Today was different. Her hair stood up everywhere. Her coat still covered in yesterday's coat. Her mascara scarring her cheeks. She stared at his shirt, her eyes not wandering. Not a word she'd sat down. She had been five minutes late. He didn't remember the last time she was late for something. He had almost given up. After five minutes. Or maybe he was giving up after twenty-two years. 

"Elena," he said, ducking his head to catch her gaze. Her eyes met his, she smiled. 

"Bill," she said a little breathlessly. Her smile wilted, but did not die entirely. Her eyes searched his. As if he had said something in a different language. Or had suggested she pour bacon grease in her coffee. Something equal parts horrible and ridiculous. She finally dropped her gaze to the coffee he'd gotten her. The marker on the side said "cinnamon machiato" and she knew it was over. She expected nothing less. Or more. She deserved this. "I'm glad you're doing this."

"Doing what?"

"You're better with them. I'm glad I married you. You're a good father, Bill." 

"Just what is it you think I'm doing, Elena," he said, his eyes taking on a shrewd squint. 

"You're good at that. Redirecting a witness."

He blinked at her. 

"You're not a witness. What is it you think is going on here?" He said, his fingers spreading branching on the table top. 

"You have beautiful hands. Did I ever tell you that? They're so elegant, but masculine at the same time."

He leaved back, a short chuckle and then a grimace. His fingers, those long beautiful fingers, dug into his eyes. 

"We're done. Right?" She said it quietly, nearly a whisper. When he looked at her she smiled. Less manically this time. Just sad. 

"I don't where else this goes."

"I know. You're right."

"I know I am, I'm just surprised you know that."

"You bought me my coffee. The one with more concentrated sugar than a fundip. You only buy this for me when things are bad, you know, because it's my favorite. And you would know that. And you're not an asshole. Of course you would comfort me even if you're divorcing me."

Bill clenched his jaw. "A separation. I think we need some time apart." 

"Oh. Oh yeah. Yeah, that's fine. Whatever you want, Bill."

"You know, I wasn't trying to soften a blow with the coffee. Not exactly. I just, and don't let this go to your head now, it was my way of telling you that…" he leaned back and shook his head. She waited for him to find the words. "It wasn't all your fault. I was there too. I could have...I should have...I don't even know. I just know I feel guilty and I know this is on me too." 

Elena sat back, searching his eyes again. "Okay," she said carefully. 

"I was thinking, temporarily, you could go live at the rental with the kids. I'm staying with Linda and Mark for now, but I'll look for something more permanent this weekend. 

"You want me around the kids?" She asked him, her eyes swam with tears. Bill could only remember a handful of times he'd seen her really cry. 

"Honestly, I have reservations about it, but like I said: I'm beating with the McCullough. I can't bring them home with me after everything they've gone through and its temporary."

"Maybe you should move into the house, Bill. Move in with the kids. I'll be okay. I'll, I'll come visit. And if Izzy comes back, then she'll have her family to come back to."

"You've never called her Izzy before, but I've also never heard you say she wasn't your family," he shook his head, tears swimming in his own eyes. If Bill thought he'd rarely seen Elena cry, he had nothing on Elena, who'd seen Bill cry exactly five times. Each time he'd held one of his children for the first time and when his older sister had died of lung cancer four years ago. He sniffed. "Yeah, if that's okay, I think I will."

"Okay," she said. Silence fell between them. Neither of them drank their coffee. 

"Well, I have a lot going on. I need to get back. There's a lot of insurance stuff I need to deal with. The demolition of the rest of the house…"

"Okay," she said, her gaze did not shift. She heard him sigh heavily. He was disappointed in her. That was putting it lightly. "I'm… I'm sorry. I know that doesn't mean much or help, but I really am. I'm so, so sorry."

Bill sighed again and then stood up and walked away from the table, out the door and to his car without a backward glance. Elena pursed her lips and took a sip of her coffee. It was just the way she liked it. She barely made it back to her car, crawling into the backseat, before letting her heartbreak erupt in cries and snot and tears.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena sees her kids (except Izzy) for the first time since the fire and has a hard (and partially inebriated) conversation with Bill.

Elena lay in the backseat of her suburban and stared blankly out the window at a barren buckeye tree. She wasn’t sad, not at the moment. Just numb and nihilistic. She missed her anger, her self-righteousness. It used to hold together. She wasn’t sure what she was without it. Not a mother. Not a wife. Not a journalist. Just a middle aged woman who hadn’t showered in three days or changed her clothes in that many days. Tomorrow was Tuesday, however, a work day. The one thing she had left and even there, how much longer would she have the job if she couldn’t keep her life together. She sighed. There wasn’t a point to anything, but there was no reason not to either.

She pulled out of the church parking lot and made her way downtown. Five minutes later she was the YMCA. Not the one she usually went to, the one just outside of Shaker Heights, but close enough to be part of the membership. She held her head high, in spite of the looks from the perky, college-aged redhead at the front desk and swiped her card with no incident. As she passed, she gingerly selected an apple from the complimentary fruit bowl on the desk. She went first to the storage lockers, where she knew the lost and found usually was. She found a pair of shorts and a zippered sweatshirt around her size. She spent two hours in the women’s locker room. She washed her clothes in the sink and used the bathing suit dryer to spin the water out. She spent thirty minutes letting the hot water beat down on her. The flow of women in and out stopped her from crying and a drop of dignity returned to her. It was all she needed.

On her way out, she grabbed two apples and granola bar for dinner and breakfast tomorrow and quietly put a small stack of towels in her oversized bag. Guilt rose up as a habit at the idea of theft, followed by inner scoffing. She was no longer the good person she always told herself she was. What was one or two threadbare YMCA towels when she’d destroyed the lives of the people she loved?

She’d parked in the side lot of the YMCA and when she awoke the next morning, went in to use the facilities, run a finger over her teeth and grab a styrofoam cup of black acid labeled ‘coffee’ in the lounge.

She pulled up to the newspaper half an hour early. One other car was in the parking lot. One she knew well. He was waiting for her on the front step, leaning into a pillar. A travel mug in his hand. She straightened her blouse a little as she approached.

“Good morning, Elena,” he said. His voice was friendly, his eyes were serious. “I had a little time before work, I’m glad you’re here early. I thought it would take you longer to get here from the McColloughs.”

“Oh, no. I’m not staying with them.”

“No?”

“After everything I did, I’m the reason they lost…” Elena shook her head helplessly. “I can’t go back there.”

Bill looked at his feet and nodded. She had hoped he would assuage her a little, but she wasn’t surprised. She really didn’t blame them. If she were in Linda’s shoes, she’d hate herself too.

“Bill?” she asked. He was standing at the top of the steps, three steps above her. Add to that to the one foot and two inches he already had on her, he towered over her.

“Elena, we have things to discuss. As much as I’d like to just write you off, it’s more complicated that. Plus, the kids still need you. I…” he trailed off and ran hand down his face. “I have to admit I’m a bit lost without - without your help.”

“Oh,” she said. On the one hand he wanted to write her off, but she had to admit a quiet feeling in her chest that felt suspiciously like hope bloomed in her chest. She thought about the kids, which made her think of Izzy, which squashed whatever that feeling was. “I can, um, write down some schedules. I can fax it to your office.”

Bill scoffeed. “So you’re not even going to try?”

“What can I do, Bill? What could I say or do that could possibly make this any better?” She looked away quickly, trying to regain her composure. She wouldn’t cry, damn it.

“Well, you could try,” he said.

“You could’ve too.” She shot back and then grimaced. Bill’s head reared back a little. “That was a habit. I’m defensive. I didn’t mean that.”

She took a step toward him, but he put his arms up, pushing her approach away with his palms flat.

As he walked away he took the keys out of his pocket, his head hanging low.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said to his back. She didn’t think he had heard her, but he turned around again, his blue eyes swimming, shining in the morning sun.

“I’m sorry too,” he said. “We need to discuss some things. I have...I have questions. Will you come over to the rental house later?”

“Of course,” she said. He started to walk away, but she called after him again. “Bill, wait.” He turned but didn’t say anything, he just looked at her expectantly. “How was Isab - Izzy when she came home. Is she doing okay?”

His face took on a soft expression for a minute, but then turned hard again, “She didn’t come back, El. She, uh, she called April and relayed a message. She left.”

“What?” Elena smiled for a minute at the ridiculous idea. “No. She’s can’t just...she’s just a kid…”

“I’ll see you tonight, Elena, 7:30, okay?” he turned away again and this time she didn’t call him back. She watched as he made his way to the car, as he opened the door and slid his tall frame into the front seat, adjusted the mirror and the radio and pulled away. He didn’t look back at her once.

Elena had only worked at the paper until three for the past fifteen years, but today she threw herself into work, picking up the slack of some of the other journalists, who were catching up from taking time over the holidays. She worked until it was dark and then until the surly secretary shooed her out so she could lock up. Barely anyone at work had stared at her and nobody had said anything, but she could imagine what they were thinking. She’d think it too if she were in their shoes. Bad mother, adulterer, horrible human being. Maybe not the latter two, she didn’t know how much was public knowledge, but certainly former.

Relaxing in the front seat of her Suburban, she took a deep breath and stock of herself. She had made it through the day. She was carrying fifty dollars in her purse and had two hundred in emergency in her locked glove compartment that she hadn’t touched since the fire. She’d get paid on Friday, but in the meantime she still had nowhere to sleep and she’d hoped to get a hotel room for the night. To get a goodnight’s sleep. That and maybe buy herself another outfit. Maybe a winter coat. She only had her robe - the one she wore while her home had burned around her.

She threw it, the robe, over her lap when she got in the chilly car and blasted the heat on her ice cold legs. She’d hope to use the money as a buffer for the week, but she had a chance here. She drove to the only grocery store in Shaker heights. She was going in a little after six. It was a prime grocery shopping time and she was bound to see someone she knew, but gave herself a mental pep talk. They’d see her sooner or later anyway, might as well get this out of the way.

She picked up an apple pie and freshly baked cookies from the bakery aisle and then stopped to get a six pack of IPA for Bill. She also picked up a gallon of milk, a box of Wheaties, some sliced turkey and a loaf of bread. Just in case they didn’t have anything for lunch the next day. She kept her eyes straight ahead and refused to make eye contact with anyone in the store. The cashier gave her a pitying smile, but Elena stared her down aggressively.

It was an effortless drive to the rental on Winslow Road. She chose not to dwell or hide in the car. She was afraid she might scare herself away. She lifted her chin and got the bags from the back of the car. She let herself into the front entrance and up the stairs, but then knocked gingerly on the front door.

Lexie opened the door. “Lexie, Honey.” Elena was relieved it was Lexie. Lexie had always been so easy to connect with, but when she reached out to embrace her, Lexie simply moved out of the way and gestured toward the inside of the apartment. “Lexie?” Lexie crossed her arms over her chest.

She turned the corner to find Moody in a similar posture in the kitchen and Trip on the couch. He didn’t look angry, more wounded. Elena brought the food to the kitchen. “I brought your favorites, apple pie and those Cowboy cookies you guys love so much.” She opened the refrigerator to put away the perishable items she’d bought “Oh, you guys already have turkey and milk. Well, at the rate Trip and Moody eat, I’m sure you’ll use these by the end of the weekend,” she chuckled, but nobody responded. She straightened after putting the rest of the groceries away in silence. Moody had left the kitchen and was reading a book on the couch. Lexie looking at a set of flashcards and Trip was looking between his siblings, looking completely lost.

“Guys, I know this is hard on all of you…” Elena started.

Moody’s head shot up. “Are you kidding me, Mom?” he shook his head and walked to the door, where he was met by his father just walking in, his own arms laden with paper bags.

“Where the hell are you going?” he moved into Moody’s way. Moody stared at his father. He wasn’t quite as tall as his father yet, but he would be. Maybe taller. “Take these and put them on the table. Lexie, Trip, why don’t you make yourselves useful.”

Lexie scoffed disgustedly and didn’t move, but Trip hopped up and came around to the kitchen, walking right by Elena. He looked down at his mother and gave her a tight lipped nod. It was more affection that she’d gotten in days and it ignited something in her. A shred of maternal strength that took hold in her heart. It did nothing but rest there, but it was something.

“Hi Elena,” Bill nodded toward her, as Trip just had. Trip may have taken after Elena in his complexion and the fine shapes of his face, but he was Bill’s son.

“Hi,” Elena looked at him a bit breathlessly, but Bill pulled a face as if he had been offered something unpleasant.

“Let’s sit down, shall we? I’m starving.”

They worked quietly and quickly, all sitting around the Mexican take out, silently passing cutlery, salsa, guacamole and pico de gallo around.

“Are we just going to sit around and pretend like our lives aren’t all falling apart,” Moody asked. His voice didn’t raise in volume, but the bite and clip at the end of each work made up for it.

“No,” Bill said, looking at levely at Moody. He put his fork down and smoothed a napkin over his knee. “No, this family will not fall apart. I won’t let it. I don’t know how, but I will die before I let anything else happen to us like what happened last week.” Bill looked around at the faces of children. He made eye contact with Elena, but quickly diverted it back to the kids. “Your mother is part of this family. Izzy is part of this family. Even if we’re not living under the same roof right now, we are a family. You got that?” He stared down at each of the children.

Trip nodded.

Lexie crossed her arms. “I get it about Izzy, Dad, but her?” she gestured toward Elena.

Elena opened her mouth to say something. She didn’t even know what, but Bill spoke first.

“She brought you into this world. For the last seventeen years she has fed and loved and supported you. The past hasn’t changed. She is still your mother and you will show the respect you owe her.”

“Fine,” Lexie’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m not okay with this,” Moody said. “It's not a matter of will, Dad. I don’t respect her. She broke my little sister. You should have heard what she said to her. No mother says that to her child.”

“You’re right,” Elena finally found her voice. “I messed up. I’ve been messing up since she was born with her and none of it was Izzy’s fault. This is on me. I think about what I said to Izzy and…” Elena closed her eyes to search for strength, “and it makes me sick. Moody, I would expect nothing less of you. You shouldn’t forgive me. I’m proud of you for not forgiving me.”

“What about the rest of us?” Lexie said. “Yeah, it’s obvious that you messed up with Izzy. Anyone can see that. How about me? How about dad?”

Elena took a steadying breath. “I’m trying, Lexie. I want to be better. I don’t...I don’t know how yet, but...I hope one day I can earn you trust back. All of you, she looked at each of her children in turn and then at Bill.

Bill cleared his throat. “Your mother and I’s relationship is irrelevant here, Lexie. She’s your mother and I’m your father.”

Silence fell and the children went back to eating their food. Elena stood up to clear their plates, it was the least she could do, but Bill stood too and quietly helped alongside her.

“I brought dessert, if anyone is hungry?” she asked and looked around hopefully.

“I told Serena I’d study at her house,” Lexie said. “Thanks for dinner, Dad.” She turned to her mother and took a step toward her, but then recoiled and simply said, “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“I’m meeting Carl, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Moody stood up without looking at either of his parents.

Trip just chewed his lip as he looked between his parents.

“Trip, you’ve been awfully quiet tonight.” Bill said.

“I have a lot on my mind. Um, I can’t think here and I need to study, so I’m going to go down to the coffee shop. They’re still open for a couple of hours.” He rounded the table and took Elena into a soft hug. He looked down at her and she let him gather his thoughts. She resisted the urge to touch his face. “I’m still mad at you, but I love you mom. I just...I’m not ready to forgive you yet.”

Elena finally let a tear drop and let her hand cradle her baby’s face. “It’s okay honey, I want to earn that. This isn’t on you.”

Trip looked past her toward the door. “That’s not entirely true. I could have done more,” he said his voice breaking. “I was such a dick to her. I messed things up with Moody and Pearl-”

“No, Trip.” Elena said forcefully. “This is not your fault, okay? You’re just a kid.”

Trip nodded and left quickly for the door, barely slowing to sling his backpack over his shoulder.

It was just the two of them in the house now. He on one side of the table, his arms crossed and his bowed as he leaned against one wall and she on the other.

“I brought some of that IPA you like,” she said.

“I think I’d rather have whiskey,” he said. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one as he walked to the built in bar. He quirked an eyebrow at her, challenging her to say anything about his habit.

“Thank you,” she said instead, “For inviting me. For letting me be around the kids. I know I don’t deserve that.”

“No, El, you really don’t.” he chuckled as he made himself comfortable in a leather chair she’d never seen before. He popped up the footrest and reached over to a bookshelf to get an ashtray. “But they do. They deserve to have a mother and a father, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes I do. You know I do,” she took the seat closest to him and he gave a dangerous look, his face flat.

“You said you had questions.” She prompted him.

“I have to finish this first before I’m ready to ask,” he said holding up the two fingers of whiskey he’d poured for himself.

“Can I ask you a question, then.”

He rolled his eyes, but gestured toward her anyway. “What are we going to do about Izzie? We can’t just let her fend for herself.”

“I agree.” He said. “I’ve hired a private investigator. He already found out that she’s boarded a bus bound for Denver, but with a few stops along the way. Police have been notified. They’re looking for her.”

“Denver,” Elena bolted up. “Denver. That makes sense. Do you remember that ski trip we took? We couldn’t get to leave the Museum of Outdoor Arts.”

He smiled a little at the memory. “I’ll go there,” she said, nodding her head. I’ll find her.”

“You will do nothing of the sort.” Bill said.

“No, Bill I have to, I have to make this right,” she stood and took a step forward.

“Sit the fuck down, Elena.”his booming voice made her jump and then freeze.

“But, but…” Elena gestured toward the door.

“Don’t even think about chasing her down. You are not fit.”

Elena recoiled as she’d been slapped and sat back in her chair. “Not fit.” she repeated under her breath.

“Elena, I know you have this overpowering urge to fix everything and sometimes that’s not a bad thing. Right now, El, it’s a very bad thing.” He pushed the lever to retract the footrest and leaned toward her. He was only inches from her face. “Do you understand me?”

Elena nodded, not able to meet his eyes. “I understand, but I can’t do nothing. I can’t.”

Bill sat back again, stubbing his cigarette but into the tray, his hand was now free to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, I figured, but you are not going to abandon this family again. Or it that you have another ex-fiance in Denver. Or is Jaime doing a piece there?”

Elena met his eyes. This was the sort of question she’d come prepared to answer. “You have every right to be mad about that.”

“About what exactly?” Bill asked.

Elena licked her lips, “About - about,” she took a breath in and closed her eyes and shook her head a little. “About running to him when things were hard here.”

“Is that what happened? You ran to him?”

“Yes.”

“How many times, Elena?”

She closed her eyes, steeling herself, but forced herself to meet his. “Twice.”

“Twice? I already know about the times you went there. Are there any other times?”

“No..”

“No?”

“Those are the only times I saw him in person. I called him every once in a while. Sometimes I’d look into what he’d recently published.”

“Because you still love him.” He said. It was statement, not a question.

“No,” she said, she shook her vehemently. "He broke my heart back in France and I never loved him again. It wasn’t ever about him. It was about me. About losing my dreams. He just represented a choice I didn’t make. A choice that I started to resent not making after Izzy was born.”

“Wow.” Bill chuckled and then took long gulp of his whiskey followed by an noisy exhalation. “So we're the choice you regret, me and the kids? I mean I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be honest, but I God help me, I believe you.”

She wanted to argue. She wanted to claim the role again of being the martyr, the ever serving mother, happy to let her family pick her bones clean of everything she had, but it would be a lie. 

“It’s the truth.”

“Jesus." he said. 

"When I came back after that first time."

"The pacifier incident?" 

"Yeah, I told myself, 'This is what you chose, Elena, make the most of it. Embrace it.' And for a long time I did, but it was all this facade built on a shoddy foundation. Probably because I didn't come clean about it. To you." 

Bill sighed, studying her. Part of him wanted to leave it like this. Without ever knowing, but he was done with that. He was done being the background character in his family's story.

"Did you fuck him?” he asked. 

“No," she met his eyes, but then dropped them. "We didn’t have sex.”

“Well that was a little specific of an answer wasn’t it?” he said tilting his head to the side. “You didn’t have sex, but…” he prompted her with a gesture from his free hand.

“We kissed. The first time, I...we made it back to the hotel room, but I changed my mind. I ran home. Drove the rest of the night back to you. With the pacifier.”

“And the second time? This last time? Three weeks ago?”

“I didn’t intend for anything to happen. Not really. I went to the Times. He found out information about Mia, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested. At the end of the night, after dinner, I suggested we go up to my hotel room. This time he refused.” At the last bit she finally dropped her eyes.

Bill licked his lips as he searched the popcorn ceiling for words. “Geeze, honey. I mean it was your schedule. I’ve been here the whole time, you didn’t have to go to New York to get some dick.”

She knew he was being crude to scare her, shock her, but there wasn’t enough pride left intact for her to feel anything but desperation.

“You’re right, Bill. You were always there.”

The bravado slipped off his face at her quiet admission.

“I wasn’t though.”

“What?” she asked. Now she was shocked.

“Not like that. I’ve never had sex with anyone else either.”

“That was a little specific,” she said.

“A couple times we went to strip clubs. When Andy Wheeler made partner. That was after your first little trip to New York. And again after things started getting bad with you and Izzy a few years ago. I paid extra for a blow job for one and a handjob for the second.”

Elena nodded her head, what could she say? She felt betrayed, but knew she was in no position to to talk. She would have fucked Jamie that night if he’d let her.

“But that’s not even what I was talking about. I mean those were completely meaningless nights, even though I know they were wrong. I’m talking about when I saw you slipping after Izzy. After you told me to my face your were overwhelmed and I fucking ignored you. And I’ve gotten pretty damn good at it too. When you got back, you know, with the pacifier, you were different. You were somehow more powerful and unreachable. We stopped making love. I just thought that this was a form of motherhood that I didn’t know anything about. You’d graduated to this powerhouse of a woman. A force. I just stepped back and let it happen. Even when there were signs. That tick in your eye. When you suddenly would get very busy with lunches or a call the PTO members or when I heard fucking sobbing in the bathroom after you thought I’d fallen asleep. I did nothing. I was there, but I wasn’t there. Maybe you not coming to clean to me, it was because you felt you couldn't. Because i wasn't there for you. I'd already broken your trust by then.”

“So what are you saying?” Elena asked.

“I’m saying. I’m responsible for this shitshow too and- and I’m sorry Elena.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you. I’m sorry too,” she reached for his hand. He studied their hands together. The rings he’d slipped on her fingers still beautifully adorning her petite hands.

“But I don’t forgive you.” he said and let her hand go. She took a shuddering breath.

She bit her lip and looked away from him, sighing. “I want some pie. Do you want some pie?’ She asked.

“Sure, why not?” he said, his eyes lowered into his whiskey glass and his voice quiet to match his expression.

She cut each of them a slice after placing them on the table she walked over to the bar and picked up a whiskey glass. “Do you mind,” she asked.

“What’s mine is still yours at present,” he said and gestured toward her.

“Want a top off?” She asked

“No, I have to get up early,” he said. She nodded and walked back to her seat across from him. She tucked her chair in a little more, leaning over the dessert so it wouldn’t spill on her one pair of slacks.

He waited until she started eating before leaving his leather chair and sitting next to her.

“I know strawberry rhubarb is your favorite,” she said, “I was hoping Moody…”

“Yeah, it’s still pretty good,” he said, taking his second bite.

She lips turned into a half smile for a second, absorbing the consoling tone while it lasted. She took another bite and then washed it down with whiskey.

“I haven’t seen you do that in years.”

“What? Drink whiskey?”

“That, and I forgot how much you like to pair your desserts with whiskey.”

“Well, I usually skipped the desserts and the whiskey for wine - less calories.”

“What’s different now?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It all seems moot now.” She sighed heavily. They ate in silence. Him watching her between bites, her sipping her whiskey between her own. When she at last drained her glass, she looked up at him.

“You know,” she said. “You have a nicer dick than him.”

Surprise soon melted into a soft smile. “I forgot how much of a lightweight your are. I thought you said you didn’t sex with him.”

“Well, no, I mean not since we were engaged, when he just fucking ducked out of all of our plans, but I mean after that. No, no sex, but I was straddling him. That time fifteen years ago. I could feel it.” She whispered the last bit, as if she was talking to a girlfriend. She looked past him, remembering. You know I lost my virginity to him? And it didn’t even hurt. Not because he was very good, but he was so skinny. I think they call it a pencil dick,” she said, meeting his eyes, nodding her head as if asking him to confirm her vocabulary choice.

“Umm,” Bill said.

“But not you,” she went on. “God, I felt like I lost my virginity all over again, with you. You’re kind of...huge.” I mean, I got used to it, but at first, it was.”

“Elena,” he said reaching for her hand. “I know you’re a little drunk -”

“Tipsy,” she corrected him.

“Tipsy, but are you serious right now? I hurt you?”

She scrunched up her nose, “Well yeah, Bill. Remember how I didn’t even want to walk to the bathroom after.”

“I just thought, you know, because you had, you know..”

“I had what?”

“Orgasmed.”

“Orgasmed? No, of course not.”

“Of course not?”

“Well no, but Bill it wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t.”

“No, I mean I jumped on you. I put you in me.”

“But it hurt.”

“Well yeah, but I loved you. I wanted you to be happy and not, you know, dump me.”

Bill’s face fell into his hands. He rubbed his eyes and then let his hand drift to his mouth.

“Oh, Bill, I made you sad. I didn’t mean to. God, I just make it so much worse. I made everything worse. I’m so sorry. Bill, I’m sorry.” She started to cry, big fat drops of salty tears that fell onto her blouse. She got up and walked back over to the whiskey bottle with her empty glass.

Bill finally jumped up and put his hand over hers, gently prying the glass out of her hand. “I’m going to have to cut you off lady,” he said, a chuckle in his voice. “Why don’t I drove you home. I’ll take a cab back.”

Elena burst into a giggle. “You’re going to drive me to my car?”

“No, I was going to drive your your car to wherever you’re staying and then...what’s so funny?”

Her giggle had turned into a full body laugh. He couldn’t help but smile in response, it was instinct. “Bill!” she stretched out his name. “I’m staying in my car.”

“What?” he asked, the empathetic smile dropped from his face.

“Don’t be sad.” she said, making a sad face herself.

“I’m not...Elena, no. It’s January.”

“I wake up and turn the heater on. And I have that sleeping back in the back of my car that Moody had in their from his last sleep over and I made my own pillow from the YMCA towels. I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re my wife, Elena, of course I’m going to worry about you.”

“Well, I mean, only technically,” she rolled her eyes at him.

He shook his head at himself, “Oh El,” he said. He pulled her into his chest.

“You’re so cozy.” she sighed. “And warm.”

“You can sleep in the girls’ room tonight?”

“Girls’s room?” she asked.

“Yeah. we set up one of the beds for Izzy and Lexie and the other for Moody and Trip.”

“Oh, that’s...that’s sensible.” she said. She nodded her head as he guided her toward the girls’ room. “But where do you sleep?”

“The couch is a fold out.”

“But you don’t fit in those. You’re too tall,” she argued.

“If I sleep diagonally, I’m mostly on the bed.” he said.

She frowned, but said nothing. They passed the bathroom on the way and Bill got a her a new toothbrush from inside the vanity.

Elena exclaimed excitedly. “A toothbrush! I haven’t had one of these days in nearly a week.”

“Elena, that’s disgusting!” he said.

“I didn’t want to waste my money on a toothbrush. I figured gas to keep me warm and food so I don’t starve was more important.”

He shook his head as she spit and rinsed her face. He followed her to the girls room. One of the beds was nearly bare except for a simple duvet and white pillow. The other side was Lexie’s, as evidenced by the bags from 5-7-9 and the Gap on the floor, a backpack with study material messily stuffed into it.

“I can’t sleep in Izzie’s bed.” She said looking behind her at Bill in the doorway. His eyes were on Izzy’s bed too.

“Lexie has a queen. She’s just have to deal with it,” he said.

Elena nodded her head and slipped into Lexie’s bed, breathing in the smell of her daughter on the pillow. “I love my babies,” she said sleepily.

“Good night, Elena,” Bill spoke into the darkened room, but he was met with her heavy breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In some ways it's sort of liberating that nobody is reading this. Nobody to disappoint! Haha. Oh well. I still love their story.


	3. Morning After Part 1

Elena woke up when Lexie came home. Her huffing and groaning how ‘totally unfair’ her life was and how she was ‘not a child’ succeeded in its obvious attempt at waking Elena up.

“Sorry, Lexie,” Elena mumbled and shifted over toward the wall to make room for her daughter and then lifted the covers for Lexie to get in. 

“Ridiculous,” Lexie huffed, but she climbed in anyway and then turned away. Elena took a long slow breath to release the pain of her daughter’s anger with her, but moments later Lexie moved and shifted close so that even if she still faced away, she was backed up into her mother’s warmth. Elena nearly smiled and imagined reaching out to brush her hand down Lexie’s braid. 

She thought about what Mia had said. Consuming the apple. She wanted to pull Lexie into her. She could still feel her little feet wrapping around her back, her arms around her neck, when she’d jump into her mother’s arms from the armrest of the couch. 

Elena could feel her sweet breath on her neck when she fell asleep in her arms. She could feel her own arms wrap around her daughter's tiny body. She could even remember the bittersweet feeling of enjoying the feel of her children in her arms, but also the pull of needing a modicum of personal space. When she thought about it, she could still feel Moody and Trip pulling on her pant legs and Isabelle in her pack n’ play, screaming and reaching toward her with chubby little fingers. Even when she’d wanted to revel in their sweetness...how could someone take bites of four apples at the same time?

She didn’t want to justify her deplorable parenting, what she knew she’d become. She hated that even now, her brain tried desperately to shift the blame. In penance, she refused to cry again. She couldn’t burden Lexie with yet more of her own problems, so she took a deep breath and turned over, pressing her back against Lexie’s. 

  
  
  


In the morning, she woke to Bill’s voice and the body gently shaking.

“Lexie,” he was murmuring. “Time to get moving, You have early cheer practice, remember?”

“Mmm.” Lexie murmured. “No, Daddy.” Lexie turned around and buried her face into her mother’s back. 

Elena turned over, unsure if she should interfere, but she didn’t need to say anything. Lexie jolted back and sat up, scowling at her mother and ripping the sheet and blanket hard enough that it uncovered Elena as well.

“Whatever,” she said. “Did you make coffee Daddy?”

“Coffee? You don’t drink coffee,” Bill said, but his voice was unsure, a challenge to her statement.

“Umm, Daddy. What do you think I drink when I go to study sessions at the coffee shop?” She rolled her eyes and then immediately began to sift through the shopping bags by the foot of the bed for something to wear. 

Bill made eye contact with Elena for the first time that morning. It was a habit, that silent connection they shared when discussing their children without words. Elena returned an indulgent smile that said, ‘she’s telling the truth, Bill.’

“Right. Yeah, there’s coffee. Just leave some for the rest of us,” he said.

“Fine,” Lexie said over her shoulder as he left the room with an armful of clothes, leaving Bill and Elena in the room, a painful silence between them. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he said, finally. “You only had two drinks last night, but…”

“I had two doubles, Bill,” Elena said, finally sitting up. She forgot she was only wearing one of his undershirts and her panties. His eyes widened as her shapely legs came into view and turned away quickly. 

“Right well, I’ll see you in there,” he motioned toward the living room and shuffled away and closed the door behind him. 

By the time she had emerged, Lexie had left. Bill was buttering toast, with each downstroke a spray of crumbs covered his make-shift workspace of a half-unfolded napkin. 

“Oh, Bill, let me -” she made a move to take over for him, but he twisted away from her and scowled. 

“Elena!” he said. Her name sharp on his tongue, a reprimand. 

“Sorry,” she fell back, her face fell. “Sorry. I’m just going to hop in the shower…” 

Bill nodded, his attention back on the toast. “I picked up our drycleaning yesterday.” 

“Oh?”

“There were a few of your clothes in there. I put them in Izzy’s and Lexie’s closet.” 

“Oh, that’s, actually, really helpful. Thank you.” 

“Well, sometimes I am.”

“You are what?” she said, turning back around.

“Sometimes I am helpful,” he responded, not taking his eyes off the toast he was now sprinkling with cinnamon. She hated how hurt he sounded.

“You are, Bill. More often than not, you really really are,” she said, but he didn’t respond or relax his shoulders.

Unlike me, she thought, as she turned away. 

By the time she was done with her shower and dressed, Moody and Trip had finished their toast at the table and were moving around the apartment straightening up and collecting what they needed for school.

“How is school going,” she asked, trying for a gentle voice. 

Moody stared her down, his disdain clear and unflinching until she looked away.

“Today’s only the second day back after Christmas break,” Trip said, almost in apology. 

“Oh, right. Well, do you two need a ride to school, or…”

Bill came out of the boy’s room just then, where he’d been keeping his clothes and had gotten ready for the day. She itched to walk to him, to smooth down his shirt or pull her fingers along the newly shaved surface of his jaw. He swept by her on his way back to the couch where he settled and began repacking his suitcase without a glance at any of them. 

"We're getting a ride," Tripp said, a belated response to his question, and Elena nodded, her mouth tight, in agreement. 

"Great. Great." She said. 

Within minutes they were gone and Elena was grateful for the task of cleaning up - having some sort of use. 

Bill stood and looked at her and she froze and looked back, scared and expectant.

“You can’t stay in your car, Elena,” he said. 

“I know, I’ll um. I don’t get my paycheck un-” 

“I’m sorry. I forgot that you don’t have any checks or your wallet…” his voice dropped off as he reached into his pocket for the dark leather wallet he’d gotten for father’s day the previous year. 

The one with monogrammed engraved in it. 

When he held out a handful of cash, what looked like nearly a dozen twenty dollar bills, she wanted to refuse, but she really was desperate.

“Get yourself a hotel room, some new clothes. I meant what I said last night, Elena. We’re a family. I’m still going to take care of you, of all of you, when I can.” 

She felt the revival of something she thought long dead inside of her, clawing it’s way out of the wreckage of mental walls. The thought bubbled up and formed in her mind. It’s all about money to you, isn’t it Bill? That’s your way of taking care of us. Solving it with money. When did you become that guy? Did I make you that guy?

“Thank you,” she said aloud as she accepted the money. It was something, after all, tangible proof that somebody actually still cared for her. 

“I’d like for us to have dinner together, as a family, if we can. Most nights, maybe?” It wasn’t a demand, and her heart fluttered at the idea of collaborating with him again. God, she was so cheesy lately. It was enough to actually pull a genuine smile across her face. It was tired and soft, but it was real. 

“I’d really, really like that, Bill. Th-thank you,” she started to tear up and she shook her head violently in rebuke of her own emotions. “So-sorry, not crying. Not crying.” 

She turned away to collect herself and nearly jumped out of her dress when she felt the warm weight of his hands on her shoulders.

“Let me get your zipper for you,” he said, his voice close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where I'm going with this anymore, tbh.


	4. Morning After Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this got kinky and I'm changing the tags to reflect that. Idk, ya'll. I honestly wasn't expecting to continue writing this and I don't even know why I did, but here it is.

Chapter Four 

Bill’s perspective

Bill twisted her hair and then pulled it over her shoulder. He could smell her and he found it odd that he wanted to lean in and kiss her when it hadn't been something he did for years. He could remember exactly the last time he and Elena had simply dropped everything and made love on a whim. She had initiated it. It was a Saturday in April, the day before Easter, and he'd wanted to sleep in. Elena apparently had other plans, but he certainly didn't mind waking up to the vision of his golden angel straddling him, sunlight barely peeping over the edge of the windowsill, a celestial silhouette rubbing her panties sinfully over his morning wood. 

"Bill, please," she’d whispered and he took over the work of shifting her hips over him with his long fingers around her hips. 

"I've got you, Lena. I'll take care of you,” he’d whispered into the cold air of their bedroom.

"Always?" She’d asked, her voice soft and desperate. 

"Always, baby. I've got you. Come on, Elena. You're so good for me. Rub harder on me. Push your clit over me. God, you're getting so wet for me," he praised her as his hips rose to meet her.

Elena whimpered, her hips faltering and her chin dropped in concentration. 

"Turn over, love," he said as he gently slid his hips to the side. He knew that look, she was close and he wanted this to last. Her focus broken, she slid off and looked at him, but did not turn over on her back.

"I can't, Bill. The baby…" but Bill interrupted her with a kiss to her cheek and her neck in response. They were facing each other on their knees and his gaze dropped from her sapphire eyes to the treasure that slept inside of her. He laid both of his hands over her round belly, big enough that he could no longer encompass it all with, even with his long fingers. 

"And how is my littlest man this morning?" he asked her belly.

"Bill!" She whined “Talk to the baby later.” 

"God, your mother is insatiable," he gave her belly one last rub and then returned his attention to her, "Don't lay on your back then, baby. Bend over for me."

He could see the conflict in her eyes, her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth as she studied his face nervously. He knew what she was thinking, about how debauched and un-feminist it felt for her raise her ass to the sky for him, but he knew how much she liked it.

The first time, it had been her suggestion. It had been his first birthday of their marriage and she clearly wanted to do something ‘for him,’ but she when she lowered her face into the pillow to stifle her scream and came so hard it soaked both of their legs, he felt fairly certain she loved it as much she did. Afterward, she always her face from him, embarrassed that she liked something so primal as submission.

It was that desire that he called to that morning, saying what he knew would get her going again. He twisted her so that her back was to his front. He wrapped one hand around her belly and the other reached down between her legs to gently scrape the insides of her thigh. 

"Do you know how hot it is knowing I put that little guy in there, Elena?" He heard her gasp and saw from the corner of his eye that she bit her lip. “Your body is beautiful when you’re pregnant with my baby. Your hips get so round and your ass...fuck,” he nudged her between her shoulder blades. A suggestion that she gladly accepted. She fell forward on her hands and lifted her ass in the air for him. "Good girl, you're so beautiful. I love you. I love you so much," he kissed her back and very slowly dragged her panties over her ass and down her legs. Her slick stretched between her vulva and the panties as he watched the fabric hesitantly parted from her skin, and found it irresistible. Leaning down, he sealed his mouth over her slit, pulling the nectar into his mouth with his tongue as his hands held her open for him.

"Bill, yes, god!" She shouted. Bill resisted the urge to smile knowing that he’d banished her insecurities and shame away, at least for the moment, as she pushed backward into the ecstasy of his hot mouth. He popped off in time to see her blush down her neck at her own admission, coming back to herself a little. He couldn’t have that. 

"Fuck, I love how you taste. I want more, but I need my dick in you. Stay still for me baby. Let me make your pretty little pussy feel good. Let me give you what you need."

She said nothing, but lowered her head to the bed and let out a relieved sigh. 

He didn't enter her right away, but squeezed the flesh of her, parting her so he could see her beautiful pink hole and the tight bud of her asshole. 

"Beautiful, Elena," he breathed and then he finally held himself steady to breach her in shallow slow thrusts until he was buried. Through it all, she held her body tense while he pushed into her, giving just enough resistance so that every thrust was intentional and when he was finally balls deep inside of her, he ground his hips against her's. She moaned and then screamed in pleasure and lifted off of her knees to rub herself over him completely buried in her. 

"Bill. So deep. Fuck. So deep, oh my fucking god, Bill. Bill. Bill." Her voice grew more frantic and now it was Bill who stayed absolutely still, letting her work herself over and on him until she shattered, wet and trembling and collapsed on her side on the bed. 

"That was...that…I don't even…"

"That was so good," he took over the words for when they failed, his hand taking over the stimulation on his cock in her absence. He lifted her leg and rested her foot on his chest and pulled her over so she was on her back and he could look down at her creamy, naked form. Her belly swollen with their third child, her breasts full and slightly leaking milk meant for their younger two children, he delighted in the fact that she was his. His wife, the mother of his children, his partner, his best friend. She thought that when he turned her over and fucked her that it was demeaning, but he felt nothing but reverence for this woman.

Elena finally opened her eyes and Bill tried not to feel nervous about what she must see. What did she think of him, her husband, as he blatantly perused her body greedily with his eyes and took his cock in his left hand? Fire ignited in her eyes when she smiled up at him. She took his right hand, which was roughly kneading her knee, and slid it over her thigh, her hip, the side of her breasts and to her face. She kissed each of his fingertips. 

"I'm yours. You can touch me, if you want,” she said, and Bill struggled to maintain his composure. 

"Mine?" he repeated, dumbly.

"Yes, baby. Yours. Come on, Bill touch me." She guided his fingers lower to her neck. She wrapped his long fingers around her and pushed the tips of his fingers so that he squeezed slightly, not cutting off any air, only showing him that she was vulnerable to him. That she was literally putting her life in his hands. 

"Fuck. Elena." His pace increased, his hips pistoning fast and hard. "Mine. Fuck yes." 

She pulled his hand lower, between her breasts and over her belly and then down to the carefully maintained curls. She lifted her knees up and higher and pulled herself apart with her fingers. 

"You see that hole, baby?" She said. He could do nothing, but nod as he squeezed her upper thigh. "It's yours baby. Take it."

He grunted and lined himself up again, but didn't ease his way in. No, this time he thrust his full length into her. 

"Yes, just like that. Take it, baby. Take my pussy, take it,” she cried. 

He groaned at her words and felt helpless to the fire that burned through him and he finally emptied himself inside of her. 

Moody was born two days later and sex became a thing of distant memory. Elena's body was most definitely not his and barely even her own, but really belonged to the children and Bill slowly resigned himself to the twice weekly conjugal visits, if that. Even when they’d gotten pregnant with Izzy, they’d come together once in the night, desperately trying to keep each other. He could see that now. He could see how much she had needed him when he wasn’t there.

Now, though, as he finished fastening the clasp over the zipper of her royal blue dress and fisted her smooth ponytail in his hand, he wondered if he might still be able to lay some claim to the body or the heart of his former friend, former lover and, hopefully still, his wife. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried harder with these last two chapters - I even reread and edited them...once...lol. Still, I'd love feedback, 'cause, you know, I'm apparently into praise kink now.

**Author's Note:**

> Listening to music by BELLSAINT because of their rendition of Uninvited in the show got me thinking about these two and how much I stan them. They have a song called "walk through the fire" that seemed very relevant. 
> 
> Bill and Elena are shitty parents, but they have potential and as a mom of four kids myself, some of whom are 'Izzy's in the sense that they challenge me and force me daily to be better, because the alternative would look a lot like the Richardsons by the end of the show.


End file.
